


The Moth

by Resistance



Series: Boston Bruins [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Boston Bruins, M/M, Washington Capitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resistance/pseuds/Resistance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam wants to tell a little bit about his history. This is set mostly in 1997.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Moth

The first day I met Brett I think I fell in love with him. Maybe I didn’t like him, I’m not sure. It was a whirlwind, and always has been with him. But throughout that, I was drawn to him, like the proverbial moth. And really, that’s fitting. He is a flame. A huge burning fire and I think I wasn’t the only helpless moth flitting around him. I know I wasn’t. He had me so soon after meeting me, I shouldn’t be surprised that I wasn’t the only one. No, of course I was surprised. When we were together, that was the best time of my life. There was nothing so exciting as being the everything of someone as powerful as Brett. But it wasn’t meant to last. That’s the problem with a white hot flame like that, it burns out. It dies. But the embers still burn, no matter what wants to stomp on them, how many rookies trod through, they burn still. It doesn’t take much to fan the flames again. One meeting, casual touch, it doesn’t take a lot if the fire was never out to begin with.   
  
Ray wasn’t anything like that. I don’t talk much, I don’t want to, but then I was talking even less. I had nothing of consequence to say, but that was okay, he wasn’t very good at listening. He wanted to talk a lot, though, which I’ve never minded. He wanted to show me around his city, all the places I needed to see and more than I wanted to. He wanted to hang around me, even if he wasn’t that interested in getting to know me. And his touch was very gentle, which was such a contrast from Brett that it was almost shocking. Ray would run his hands along my arms to just see me shiver. He thought it was funny, or something else, I don’t know. He never said anything about it, just smiled and kissed me. I liked that. He didn’t ask me to talk and didn’t try to make me more outgoing. I liked that too. We fell in love slowly, maybe a little carefully, but we knew we meant it. It was comfortable. I felt safer than I ever had.  
  
We were laying in bed one day, his arms around me. He liked to lay like that, spooned up behind me, with his arms around me. I could always feel his breath on the back of my neck. It’s how I could tell when he fell asleep, his breathing was different. On this particular day, I could tell he was still awake. So I asked, "Do you love me?"  
  
He laughed, and pulled me closer, "You know I do." He said.  
  
I did know that, he told me often enough. "Would you still love me if I was on another team?"  
  
He didn’t answer for a moment. I don’t know if he was thinking or if he was just surprised. Eventually I could feel him nod, "Yes, I would."  
  
That I didn’t know, but I was glad to hear it. I didn’t say anything else. That was all I wanted to know.  
  
After a minute, he spoke, "Where are you going?"  
  
"Washington."  
  
"How soon?"  
  
"Two days."  
  
He fell silent too and pulled me close again, even if I hadn’t moved any farther away. We didn’t say anything else the rest of the night and eventually he fell asleep. It always took me longer to fall asleep than it did him, but I liked to lay there, wrapped up with him, thinking about whatever I wanted to. Sometimes that was the game, sometimes him, sometimes Brett, sometimes something I’d read or watched before going to bed. It didn’t much matter what, I just liked that time to think.   
  
I liked Washington. I fit in there well and I could relax. I didn’t know I wasn’t relaxed in Boston, but I think I had responsibly there. I was expected to be whatever it was that I was there. It was hard to do long distance, though. I could tell the longer we were apart, he was getting more unhappy, more restless. And no matter what I tried, it didn’t work. I didn’t know what to do for him anymore, but I couldn’t help the feeling that I couldn’t do anything from Washington.   
  
My first game back was November 6th. We lost. Got shut out to boot, but I wasn’t going to let that spoil today, because I hadn’t seen him in too long. It was the beginning of the end, that day was. I walked into the locker room, because it was mine for so long, I didn’t really feel bad about it. Besides I wanted to see him. I was met with a young guy and for the rest of my life I’ll remember the look on his face when I asked him if he knew where Ray was. I don’t know why. I didn’t ask, and sometimes I wish I had. Another young guy ushered him off, looking almost offended I’d asked.  
  
He wasn’t any different to me, though. Maybe a little more rushed, aware that we didn’t have all the time in the world like we used to. But at the end of the night, we were in bed with his arms around me just like always. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. For a moment I could forget that I wasn’t on our team anymore. "Do you love me?" I asked.  
  
He pulled me closer, "You know I do." He didn’t laugh this time.  
  
"Will you tell me what’s wrong?"  
  
"Nothing is wrong."  
  
I fell silent. That wasn’t the truth, he knew it and I knew it, but I didn’t see a point in calling him on it. If he didn’t want to tell me, to talk to me, there was nothing I could do about it.   
  
He pulled me even closer, just before he asked, "Do you love me?"  
  
He didn‘t usually ask me that. Maybe because I volunteered it, or maybe because he knew. "Of course I do." I turned onto my back to look at him, touching his face, pulling him down so he would kiss me. It was as gentle as always, his hands up in my hair. Nothing that had happened before mattered in that moment, he was just the same as he had been, that kiss proved that nothing had changed.   
  
But that wasn’t true. Something had changed. I just wished at the time I knew what.


End file.
